Life-Enriching Education

by Marshall B Rosenberg

  If you circled this number, we’re not in agreement. The words play fair do not clearly express a specific action being requested. The speaker might have said, “I’d like you to tell me if you would be willing to have each person take only one turn until everyone has had a turn.”

  The Process is the Objective

  If our objective is simply to change people’s behavior or to get what we want, Nonviolent Communication is not the language for us. This is a language for those of us who want people to say “yes” to our requests only if they can do so willingly and compassionately.

  Since the objective of Nonviolent Communication is to create the quality of connection necessary for everyone’s needs to get met, when we speak it we are not simply trying to get people to do what we want. And when people learn to trust that our commitment is to the quality of the relationship—to honesty and empathy—and that our goal is for everyone’s needs to be fulfilled, they can trust that our requests are requests and not demands.

  So the teacher who wanted to rearrange the classroom might have discovered, through her willingness to understand her student’s preference not to move her desk, that the student was having vision problems and wanted to keep her seat where it was, near the front of the room. In the course of that conversation, another student might have volunteered to move his desk to make room for the fossil table. Thus everyone’s needs would have been met, and no one would have been criticized or guilt-tripped.

  My own children gave me some powerful lessons about demands. Somehow I got it into my head that as a parent it was my job to make demands. My children taught me that I could make all the demands in the world and I still couldn’t make them do anything.

  That’s a humbling lesson in power when you think that because you’re the parent, or the teacher, or the school superintendent, that it’s your job to change other people and make them behave. But here were my children educating me that I couldn’t make them do anything. All I could do was to make them wish they had. And they taught me that any time I would be foolish enough to do that, they would make me wish that I hadn’t made them wish they had.

  People Can Hear Demands No Matter What We Say

  Some people, of course, will hear demands and criticism no matter how hard we try to avoid these forms of communication. We are particularly likely to be interpreted as expressing demands when we are in a position of authority and the people we are speaking with have had experiences in the past with people who have exercised their authority in a coercive way.

  For example, the school administration in a high school asked me to demonstrate for the teachers how Nonviolent Communication could be applied when communicating with students who weren’t cooperating as the teachers would have liked. It was arranged for me to meet with forty students labeled by the faculty and administration as “socially and emotionally maladjusted.”

  It has been my experience that when we give people such labels we are likely to act toward them in a way that contributes to the very behavior that concerns us. Then we use the behavior as confirmation that our diagnosis is accurate. If you were a student and knew you were labeled “socially and emotionally maladjusted” wouldn’t that contribute to your resisting whatever was asked of you? Therefore, I wasn’t surprised that when I walked into that classroom about half of the students were hanging out the window hollering obscenities at their friends in the courtyard below.

  I started by making a request saying, “I would like you all to come and sit down so I can tell you who I am, and what I would like us to do today.” About half the students did so. I wasn’t certain that all the students heard me so I repeated my request. The remainder of the students gradually returned to their seats with the exception of two young men who still stood by the window. Unfortunately for me, those two were the largest students in the class.

  Addressing the two, I said, “Excuse me, would one of you gentlemen tell me what you heard me say?” One looked at me menacingly and snorted, “Yeah. You said we had to come there and sit down.” I thought to myself: “Uh, oh! He’s heard my request as a demand.”

  I then said to him, “Sir, … ” (I have learned to always say “Sir” when people have biceps like he did—especially when there’s a tattoo on the biceps) “would you be willing to tell me how I could have let you know what I was wanting so that it wouldn’t sound like I was saying you had to do it?” He said, “Huh?” Having been conditioned to hear demands coming from authorities, it obviously was not easy for him to hear my request as a request and not as a demand.

  So I tried to express this in another way, asking, “How can I let you know what I’m wanting from you so it doesn’t sound like I’m bossing you around?”

  He thought for a moment about what I said and replied, “I don’t know.”

  I then said: “What is going on between you and me right now is a good example of what I was wanting us to talk about today. I believe people can enjoy each other a lot better if they can say what they would like without bossing others around. However, I don’t know what to say so that you will trust that when I tell you what I would like, I am not saying that you have to do it and that I’ll try to make your life miserable if you don’t.” To my relief he seemed to understand what I was saying. He and his friend joined the group, and we had a very productive day.

  We can help others trust that our request is a request and not a demand by adding some words indicating that we would want people to do what we are asking only if they can do so willingly. Thus we might say, “Would you be willing to wash the chalkboard?” rather than, “I would like you to wash the chalkboard.” However, the most powerful way we communicate that our requests are not demands is by empathizing with people when they do not comply with our requests.

  So back to the student who wouldn’t read Huckleberry Finn. You have told him that you feel puzzled (you also feel discouraged, but the more neutral “puzzled” is less likely to be interpreted as guilt-tripping) and that you need to contribute to his learning but can’t figure out how he can learn without reading the book. So now you come up with your request: it is positive, it is concrete, it is immediate, and it is a request instead of a demand: “Would you be willing to tell me what keeps you from reading Huckleberry Finn?”

  By now we have covered the first half of the Nonviolent Communication model, the half about speaking this Life-Enriching language. The other half comes next, the half about listening with Life-Enriching ears, so that you will know what to say when your student answers, “Huckleberry Finn is boring.”

  NVC in Education

  Fun For Everyone

  A teacher was teaching Nonviolent Communication to a group of fifteen children, ages five to eight, in an After School Program. The group met in the school gym every day after school. For the first twenty minutes, they ate a snack and talked and played with one another. Then the teacher introduced an activity or game that she hoped would provide a fun way to learn NVC skills.

  One day they were playing a cooperative game where each person puts a beanbag on their head, and while music plays, they walk or run around the gym trying to keep the beanbag on their head. If the beanbag falls off, they have to freeze. They can’t pick up their own beanbag, but must wait for someone else to pick it up and put it on their head, at which time they can move again. After playing this way for a time, two boys started knocking beanbags off other kids’ heads and pretty soon, all of the kids were racing around knocking beanbags off each other’s heads.

  The teacher was very frustrated and anxious. She wanted order and wanted to make sure that everyone was safe. She shouted, “I want everyone to sit on the floor in a circle right now!”

  About half of the kids ran to the circle painted on the floor and sat down, while the others kept running around, gathering speed, as they started throwing beanbags at each other.

  “Stop right now!” she shouted, even louder than before. “I want you to come sit right now.”

  While the students made their way
to the circle, a seven-year-old boy named Sean walked up to the teacher and the following dialogue ensued:

  Sean: Ms. Mary, you’re feeling angry, aren’t you?

  Teacher (surprised and grateful to be heard): Wow. Yes, Sean, I am feeling pretty frustrated right now. I feel heart-warmed that you noticed. I’m curious. How did you know what I was feeling?

  Sean: I could tell by the way you were snatching the beanbags off the floor.

  Teacher (laughing): So you could see pretty clearly that I was upset?

  Sean: Yeah.

  Teacher: Well, it sure helps me to have you see that. I’m feeling more relaxed already.

  The teacher then asked everyone to please be quiet.

  Teacher (addressing all the students now seated on the circle): A few minutes ago when I yelled at you to stop and sit on the floor, I was feeling pretty frustrated. I want us to play and learn together. I want it to be fun and what was happening wasn’t fun for me, mostly because I was worried someone would get hurt. Would someone tell me what you’re hearing me say so far?

  Student 1: You said you thought we’d hurt one another.

  Student 2: And you said you were frustrated.

  Teacher: Thank you for hearing that. It feels so good to be heard. I’m grateful too, that Sean came to me and asked if I was angry. I was pretty upset for a few minutes. I’m feeling more relaxed now, but I’d still like to see how we can have more fun together in a way that I’m not worried about safety. I’d like to hear from you how you experienced that game.

  Student 3: I thought it was fun. I wanted to play longer.

  Student 4: Yeah, nobody was getting hurt.

  Student 5: It hurt me when you hit my head.

  Student 4: No it didn’t.

  Teacher: So it sounds like some people were having fun and some were not having fun. Is that accurate?

  They nod their heads.

  Teacher: I’d like to find a way to play where everyone is having fun and everyone is safe. Does anyone have an idea about how this could happen?

  The teacher and students spent the rest of the time discussing ways that everyone could have fun. As so often happens, this real-life exercise in finding a way that was fun for everyone turned out to provide more valuable learning for the group than the games the teacher had planned for that day. They ended the session by deciding to try three different versions of the game the next time they met to see which would best meet all their needs.

  CHAPTER 3

  Hearing Messages With Empathy

  Empathy

  In this chapter I will discuss ways of empathically hearing messages being expressed by others, listening with Life-Enriching ears. Empathy is a special kind of understanding not to be confused with intellectual understanding, or even with sympathy. Empathy requires listening with the whole being, the hearing that the philosopher Chuang-Tzu refers to in the following passage:

  The hearing that is only in the ears is one thing. The hearing of the understanding is another. But the hearing of the spirit is not limited to any one faculty, to the ear, or to the mind. Hence it demands the emptiness of all the faculties. And when the faculties are empty, then the whole being listens. There is then a direct grasp of what is right there before you that can never be heard with the ear or understood with the mind.

  —Thomas Moore’s book on the work of Chuang-Tzu

  One component of empathy is to be fully present to what the other person is currently feeling and needing, and not losing that through a fog of diagnosis or interpretation. This requires that our minds not wander off on paths of analysis while we seem to be listening to the person before us. We don’t want to be like the man in the cartoon who, when his friend says, “I get the feeling you are not listening when I talk to you,” answers, “You’re right. I’d rather be listening to what I’m going to say next than to what you are saying now.”

  This being fully present also requires that we clear our consciousness of whatever preconceived ideas or judgments we may have been harboring about the person speaking. I would not want this to sound like I am advocating suppressing or repressing one’s feelings. It is more a matter of being so focused on the feelings of the speaker that our own reactions do not intrude.

  I find the following analogy helpful in making clear the nature of the focus that empathy requires. Recall a time when you had a pain in your body, perhaps a headache or a toothache, and you became totally engrossed in a book. What happened to the pain? You no longer felt it. You didn’t suppress it; rather the focus of your attention was so fully on what you were reading that you were not aware of the pain. In empathy our attention is so fully focused on the feelings and needs of the other person at that moment that we are not aware of our thoughts about the person.

  This analogy of the pain in our body can also help us to clarify the difference between empathy and sympathy. At the moment we say to someone, “I feel sad to hear you are in such pain,” we are not empathically connecting with the other person’s pain. We are expressing the pain we feel that was stimulated by the other’s pain. That is sympathy. A sympathetic response can also be a gift to the other person if our timing is right. If we respond sympathetically after we have connected empathically, this can deepen our connection with the other person. However, if we respond with sympathy when the other person needs empathy, this can disconnect us.

  Verbally Reflecting What We Hear

  Listening intently is one part of empathy. Another is making sure that we heard what we thought we heard. “I know you believe you understood what you think I said, but I am not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.” A teacher in a workshop I conducted gave this quote of unknown origin to me. I liked how clearly it alerts us to the fact that we may be convinced that we know exactly what the other person meant, even when we do not. Putting into words our understanding of the speaker’s feelings and needs is a way we can verify whether or not we fully understand.

  So we might respond to a kindergartener who wails, “I want to go home!” with, “Are you missing your mom, and wishing that you were at home with her?” only to hear back, “No! I found a bird’s nest yesterday and I want to go home and get it and show it to everybody.”

  There are two reasons why we might choose to do this verbal reflection. The first is to make sure that we are accurately understanding what the other person is feeling and needing. By verbally reflecting, others can correct us if our understanding is not what they have been trying to express.

  A second reason for verbally reflecting our understanding would be because we sense that the speaker would appreciate some confirmation that she has been understood. When we verbally express empathy is this way, we want to guess what the other person is feeling and needing, rather than tell her what she feels and needs. If we are mistaken, we let her correct us. We do not want to imply that we know better what is going on inside her than she does.

  This would be true even if the person to whom we would like to offer empathy has said nothing at all. Thus, one might ask a child standing alone on the edge of the playground, “Are you feeling lonely because you want friends to play with, and the other kids aren’t playing with you?” And not, as if stating a fact, “I see that you are feeling lonely because you want friends to play with.”

  Sometimes our empathy can be communicated nonverbally and no verbal reflection is necessary. When we are fully present to what is alive in others, we wear a different expression than when we are mentally analyzing the person or thinking of what we are going to say next. However empathy is expressed, it touches a very deep need in human beings to feel that someone else can truly hear them, and hear them nonjudgmentally.

  When we have connected empathically with the feelings and needs being expressed by the people speaking with us, we then try to clarify what the speakers might want of us. Sometimes speakers may be ready to move quickly to their requests. However, the first feelings and needs they have expressed may be connected to other feelings and needs, and
they may need more empathy before moving to their requests. (The lonely child may also be feeling scared or angry, for example, because he had previously had a disagreement with one of his classmates.)

  Two signs indicate that speakers may be ready to move to their requests. First, when people have had the empathy they need at a given time, they feel relieved, and we can usually sense this relief. Another more obvious sign is that they stop talking. However, it doesn’t hurt to ask them, “Is there more you would like to say?” before moving to their requests.

  Listening for Requests

  What might people’s requests be after feeling our empathy? Sometimes they will be hungry to know how we feel about what they have told us. Sometimes they would appreciate knowing whether we would be willing to take certain actions to fulfill the needs they have been expressing. One way to get this information is to sense what they are requesting and check out whether our guess is accurate. Thus, we might say to the lonely child, “Would you like me to help you find someone to play with?”

  If we are not able to sense what the feelings, needs, or requests of others are, we can, of course, ask that the speakers tell us. (We might ask the solitary child, for example: “Is something wrong? Do you want to tell me about it?”) However, others often do not have the literacy to clearly express their feelings, needs, and requests. For this reason I have found it more helpful, whenever possible, to sense the feelings and needs being expressed and check whether I have guessed accurately.

  Connecting Empathically

  To help teachers develop their ability to connect empathically with students, I often play the role of a student who has not completed assigned work and who states when questioned about it: “I hate doing this work; it’s boring. I want to do something else.” At this point, the teacher I’m working with might say, “It’s silly to offer empathy for that; it’s obvious what the student is feeling and needing.” I then ask the teacher to check it out with me by empathizing with what I (in the student’s role) have said. So the teacher tries to empathize, “So are you saying you don’t want to do anything that requires a little work.” At this point, I indicate that such a response is an intellectual interpretation of the student’s feelings and needs, but not an attempt to connect with the student’s feelings and needs